


A Story best not Retold - Hetalia/HetaOni

by Corpsetalia_fan_the_Brotato



Category: HetaOni, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Kidnapping, Blood, Chloroform, Crossover, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, HetaOni - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Sad, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 13:34:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18592279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corpsetalia_fan_the_Brotato/pseuds/Corpsetalia_fan_the_Brotato
Summary: They are free, after all of this time, all of these loops and endless deaths, they are all finally free. The group of nations are finally able to get on with their lives, and go forward with the scars of the event that had brought them all closer as a group. It is time to continue with keeping after their countries, and getting things right in their own homes. Back to normal. So when a certain amber-eyed Italian country continues to have nightmares, and stress over what he had done to everyone and how he got them there in the first place, calling for help was the last thing on his mind.It becomes routine.So when he gets kidnapped and taken back to the mansion, what does everyone do?





	1. Chapter 1

// So, it seems as though I have failed to write a good Hetalia Fanfiction yet. So let me try to correct that. I know Hetalia has lost quite a bit of it's popularity. However, I still love it. I want to get started on making stories for it again too. As an opening note, there will be an OC in here, but he is only there for plot. I would love to say that you can all feel free to comment your opinions. Good or Bad criticism are both welcomed. Have a nice read. Also, happy Easter, this is a present to all of my previous Hetalia- based story readers from the past. I hope I got better at writing since the last time :) // 

\--- Feliaciano's (Point of View) ---

After all of this time, I still can hardly bring myself to believe that we are all free from that cursed mansion. Every single time someone died there, those memories were etched into my brain. It hurt, all those memories stung like getting a tattoo. However, this sting. This horrible, horrible, guilty sting. It was going to haunt me for the rest of my life. This is one of those times I wish I was a human. Because the rest of my life is going to be way longer than 100 years... or 200 or even 300. The rest of my years may even be well over a thousand... I will always have to live with the knowledge and the pain of remembering I was the one who got all of the others into that mess in the first place. 

The coolness of my house due to the draft of wind outside never helped me sleep after we all escaped either. Just because it reminds me of how cold and lonely that home was. The creaking of the floorboards, and the lonely pines outside as the wind grasped them, and shook the with the slightest bit of brute force. 

Even my long-abandoned fireplace seems unwelcoming to me now, knowing what I had done. Anything in my house seems so angry, and cold. All because of what I did to them? How can I truly face the anymore? How can I actually say that I helped them to leave in the first place? Several times I find myself wishing I never left that mansion after we all finally got out, no one dead. 

There are no times I wish for myself to tell the others that the mansion even had been something real. I would go back in time, if I could without messing anything up. I would yell, scream, and beg not to tell the others about that cursed place... I was such a moron.. thinking it was all fun and games. Just a silly little joke to be disproved and laughed at later. 

However, it all has hit me hard. Kicked me in the face, and started to wring me by the neck. We were there, all because of me. Maybe I was lonely, and wanted company that first time. Maybe I was scared, and wanted someone to be my bodyguard. Maybe I was confident, and wanted others to know there was nothing to be scared about either. Or to show Germany that I was able to do scary things without being a coward. 

Whatever way I cook the pasta, it all comes out the same, leading to the sad result of soggy, emotionally scarred noodles. There is just no other way to roll the dough. 

Pulling my rather heavy-feeling body from the chair I was sitting on was hard, the cushions under me felt as though they were going to eat me alive, and drown me if they got the chance. I needed to just get up, otherwise I would will myself to sleep. Who knows if I would even wake back up here. With such troubling thoughts, I just sat right back down, sinking to the floor this time.

Every single part of me wants this all to be real. However, my subconscious keeps trying to tell me that I am just in a loop. All of it is going to reset, and we are going to be where we started the first time. Right back at that creaking, yet impossibly sturdy door. Looking for a way out.

Grasping again at straws just to get everyone out alive. Yet another painful cycle of trying to survive, getting killed, and coming back as if it were never over. 

'Ring, ring ring, Ring, ring ring, Ring, ring ring' 

Even the sounds of my own phone and the waltz like tone to the ringing noise it produces were mocking to me. The thought of Japan dying, and his heart beating the as the pumping of his blood ceased, and his breath was no more. Just like a waltz, he went out slow, and painfully calm, but sad. The endless tones of the elegance and compassion for others were just as prominent as well. Just as much as he. 

Getting caught up in these useless thoughts only ended up making me miss my phone call, and the device on my table stopped vibrating, just for a little while at least. Before there was another smooth tone of the same ringing coming from it. Five seconds. That was the wait time before it started to ring again. 

Must have been Alfred. He was always more impatient than most the others around him. He gave you the least amount of time before calling back. Ludwig always gave whoever it was about 7 or so minutes, just in case they were out of the room. He would call you about 3 times, and if you did not answer, he never called a fourth time. He would just talk to you in person. He was just organized like that. 

After willing myself off the floor, lightly picking up the phone, I looked at the screen. It was Alfred, just as I thought I was. The bold lettered name flashing on the screen almost as flamboyantly and as boldly as he was in real life. However, there was four missed call notifications, and not just one. Did Alfred call me more than I remembered, or did I even notive in the first place? Taking a deep breath, I answer the phone. 

"Ciao, Alfred. What can I help you with?" 

The voice of the rowdy American picked up on the other line, his somewhat mediocre but notable accent coming through loud and clear as he spike into the phone. Somewhat static-bound because of how far away he was. 

" Yo dude, I just wanted you to know that your representative did get us that information you sent him with to the meeting. We were able to pitch in with the funds to rebuild that school in Rome that got destroyed. Japan said he was going to send over some guys to help get the town back in order since we are still working on getting your troops back together." 

"Alright, Ve~ thank you Alfred. I really do appreciate it." 

"Anytime dude. Also, are you still sick? It seems that Germany was trying to call you earlier after the meeting. However, he said you never picked up your phone." oh, so that was who was calling me, no wonder it was three more calls than the one I didn't answer from Alfred. "Also, Iggy says that if you have been 'sick' for this long, it probably is just you ignoring us or trying to avoid us... what's up man?" 

As soon as that was said, I knew there was no escaping the conversation. They knew, more than likely they knew for a while now and were just refusing to say anything. However, what should I have said? I shouldn't well on and on about it... but here I am, just sitting here locked in my house cause I don't want to face my problems.. or my fears. 

" Italy, dude, are you still there?"

There was nothing but a dead line for a couple more seconds, however, I answered back, unsure of what I was supposed to say on my own behalf. Something that would help them relax about me. They should be worrying about themselves and each other. Not me, not now. 

"Yeah, I am still here, Alfred... i'm just spacing out. How are everyone else getting along right now? Are you all still okay, is anything else happening? Nothing happened, right-"

"Whoa there, slow down a little bro. I know you are worried, but please, take a breath. All of us are fine, okay, we are all fine. Just please, breathe." The voice was soothing to me, I felt my breath slowing, only then did I realize that I had worked myself up into another small episode. I did that quite a bit now too. Although the others only every bore witness to it over the phone.

"Sorry... I think I should go. I need to get some cleaning done.. I need to get some rest too, and prepare more paperwork for the meeting tomorrow... " 

After getting ready to hang up the phone, I heard Alfred starting to talk to the others over the phone. From the sound of it, Ludwig, Ivan, Arthur, and Francis were all there. Having a mostly light conversation. It was also likely they were listening to the conversation Alfred and I had over the phone. He usually liked to have his phone on speaker during calls unless it was confidential. Just because he was loud, and needed to make sure he heard the other person he was talking to while he was boasting half of the time. 

'What did he say, America? What's going on?'

' I don't know, but he hasn't really said too much to me yet. I still think he doesn't want to talk about it...' 

' Most likely, but we need to know what is wrong... staying in his house like that for so long is unhealthy. Bloody hell, I heard his representative say that he barely even eats that much anymore.. just sits there doing paperwork...' 

' Vhat a troublesome matter... normally I vould push him to do more of his paperwork... but zhis... it is unnatural... vhat do you mean I am being dramatic? I know Italia a bit better than the rest of you... zhere is a deep means of concern.' 

' What do you mean, Germany?' 

'I saw him do it after Vorld Vhar Two.. after he became more serious, his economy went into a recession. However, no one ever recorded it in modern day history books, so hardly anyvone knows about zhat deep recession.' 

'Sacre bleu. What are we going to do, Angleterre? We can't keep waiting forever." 

" I know that, you bloody frog... but we can't just invade his personal space... "

After some time, I just hung up. They weren't arguing. Almost no one out right argued anymore about the stupid things from what I heard, so there was more progress at the world meetings. So of course, we all had some days... 

From what I could hear though, they were all worried about me, wondering how I am and even just being generally concerned... now I only felt worse for not reaching out to them for help. However, I did have help, so it's not like I have been completely alone in all of this...

Looking to the clock I have on the near shelf, silently ticking away, I saw it was nearly that time anyway. Before starting off to walk to my destination, I looked back at my phone. I knew it was rude to hang up on them... but I really wasn't in the mood to just hear extra conversation... so I did it to just spare myself a headache... no matter how selfish it may sound... I started on my way down the hall, where a long Mirror rested on my wall, the light of the living room lamp shining over the glass with a mellow reflection.

It was nice to look at, really it was... 

A few minutes passed. 

However, there was no arrival for what I was waiting for. So I just sat down, leaning on the wall to support myself. 

 

\--- Unidentified Person (Point of View) ---

As I watched the subject sit down through the window of is house, I felt myself get a little tinge of guilt inside my subconscious. I knew what I was about to do. However, it was all on the behalf of science, so I just needed to get it over with. I saw him leave the supposedly haunted mansion with many of his other buddies. But I saw him many times. 

Always coming from the door, and yelling something around the lines of 'Take us back!' and then poof, he was gone. The next thing I knew, I was back in bed, wondering how I got there. The main trick of my problem was the fact that the house never held still, I was like it was in a new by similar area every single time the place 'reset.' 

I never knew why I remembered something like that happening. After doing research, I learned what the place was, and watching this man. However... that isn't going to stop me from what I plan to do. With a deep breath, I grab my rag and the bottle of intense chloroform near me. I am going to get into that mansion, and discover its secrets. Even if it means I have to use someone else to keep that monster thing busy. 

// To be continued//


	2. Chapter Two  Lilac and Spilled Chloroform

// Hello again, and good evening, look who it is, I am back, and writing yet another chapter to one of my fanfictions. However, I am also coming to a sad realization that Hetalia is considerably more dead that I originally thought it was, and that makes me really sad, actually. However, I will not be discouraged, because I know for a fact that there are still fans out there, and I hope to find the soon. Have a nice read, good and bad criticism is welcome, and please, have a pleasant read. :) 

\- - - -Luciano's (Point of View)- - - -

As I stood in front of my mirror where I lived, I waited. There was only a certain time that this damned glass would work. Due to a peak in our worlds, our mirror could only contact the other world at two points in a day. 8:00 in the morning, and 8:00 at night. Meaning time was limited. At max, the mirror would only stay active for about an hour. Maybe two if it were to be a solstice or an equinox. Humorously enough, the functionality all depended on the sun, and functionality with the planet. 

Of course, I had reason to be waiting. There was always a reason to be here. That reason was simply just to see my counterpart. Feliciano Vargas. To imagine that the only thing we had in common was the fact that we looked the same. For the most part. However, it was implausible that we would become friends. Yet we did. 

Then again, on the same note, it was all under a strain of luck that we met the first time. However, in the end, it was one of the most beneficial things to our world really. It helped our world stay together. Not on a social scale, or at least, not completely. We were all rotten, and will always have some part of us that will remain that way. 

He helped us before, and at first, as all doppelgangers do, I hated him. I hated him with all of my being, and yet there I was, fretting over him when he had gone missing. Along with the rest of the nations. Over time, he was someone I came to appreciate in my life, I never got too much of a chance to talk with him for a while before our interconnection through the mirrors became more obvious. Being as I am who I am, I am personally more surprised I did not notice it sooner. I was always right about my feelings, and how if I got a certain feeling in the pit of my stomach, something bad would happen. 

My 1p, and all of the others, what happened to them. It never gave even me a warning. They all vanished, and I was there everyday, just to see an abandoned house. Being as my counterpart is meant to be wealthy, quite a few people had tried to rob his house. I did my best to ward them off, driving off 4 of the. After all, a person in the mirror without someone to produce it is scary enough, isn't it? 

My thoughts got a hold of me, and I caught myself zoning out, still pondering on the matter. Of course, I was still thinking about my clone. However, my thoughts were jumbled, and failed to produce me anything of satisfaction for me to remember them. I was so caught up in even that thought that I failed to notice when my reflection shifted to my lighter version, looking at me from a sitting position against the wall. 

" Ve~ Luci, are you busy, do you need some time?" his voice seemed to be a little washed out. Be it by the inter-worldly interference, or by his own accord of mood. Either way, the lighter haired version of me looked quite ill, if not; dare I say, zombie-like. 

"Che, no. Anyway, what is the matter with you? You look sick, did you not eat again this morning?" although I asked him, I already knew. His own emotions were taking a toll on him, and I often got a blunt end, met with a lie. I wished he would trust me enough to tell the truth, knowing I call him out on his bullshit ever single time. 

" Heh, yeah.. I guess I did. I am just too stressed to eat. I don't know what to do. I can't talk to them, not yet. I don't think I really can..." 

I was caught off guard by his honesty. However, I pressed forth.. maybe forcing him to talk to me more would ease some of the stress that he was feeling and get him to calm down. I adjusted my hat, and pulled up one of my decorative hallway chairs, before sitting down on it. It wasn't used any other time. "Well, say something to me then. Maybe we can work this out." 

He seemed to stiffen at the harsh tone. However, I always had it, so it wasn't me he was nervous about. I guess it was just a little bit of both. He never liked stiff or demanding tones too much, and he didn't WANT to explain himself.

"I guess it is about time I try to get it off my my chest... I just really don't know what to say, Luci. I don't have any good excuses, or solid reasons as to why I am doing this. I know I am depressed... that is the only thing I know for sure... " he had started his words slow and steady, his breathing seeming to be in check. However, I guess I thought too soon, because he started to breathe harder and he pulls his hands up to his chest. " I just don't know what to do anymore! I know that the others care about me, that my brother needs me... but I am sick of the nightmares. I am sick of not wanting to eat, not wanting to sleep, always being afraid... this all wouldn't have happened if I didn't listen to the rumors about that stupid mansion in the first place!! This wouldn't have happened if I would have minded my own business! I brought them all into that nightmare... I caused them all to die so many times... all of this is my fault and I can't tell them 'sorry' because it isn't good enough! Sorry can't bring back all of that wasted time! Sorry can't mend the time it took for our nations to fall apart while we were away!"

Rambles and rambles of his angry cries, followed by the forced movement of his arms as he curls into himself more. Fetal, and helpless. However, I knew he was never defenseless. He was intuitive. He was smart, and nimble. Quick. None of those things could help him here, because emotions are more delicate, and fragile. The second something breathes on it that can hurt them, they start to crystallize and shatter.

Soon enough, in all of his stress, he starts to pull at his hair. He is a mess, and here I am, trying to figure out what to say. As soon as he starts to talk again, I get wind of what he is saying, and soon enough the words from my heart and my head started to both flow at once. My anger was bubbling, and my own native language starts to make itself clear to the other, causing my counterpart to freeze and look at me. Tears cascading down his face. Making my words feel like an even harsher foreign waterfall. 

" I wish I was never a nation... I wish I never existed.. maybe I wouldn't need to feel this terrible. Maybe they could have lived happier, better lives... maybe if I never was here, I could undo all of my mistakes, and make things better for them by not being here to mess anything else up-"

''Non parlare mai così di te stesso, mi senti ?! Giuro su entrambi i nostri nomi che se non smetti di dire quella merda su di te, ho intenzione di strisciare verso il tuo mondo e batterti il culo! Sei lì per un motivo, e anche se ti sei fatto prendere tempo indietro, e non sono stati fatti, sono sicuro che la stessa cosa sarebbe successa in qualche modo o nell'altro!''

 

''Adesso smetti di pensare a quella merda deprimente e mettiti in fila, perché tutti stanno   
dimostrando che ovviamente si preoccupano per te! Devi smettere di fare il broncio e parlare con loro perché lasciarli soli ti fa sentire sempre più colpevole!''

 

. . .

''So che pensi di star facendo la cosa giusta, lasciandoli fuori da qualsiasi cosa anche legata alla memoria di quel posto. Nemmeno io posso dire di aver capito. Tuttavia, stai solo scavando in una   
buca, scopriranno cosa stai facendo a te stesso. Questo li farà sentire peggio di quanto la villa non farebbe mai. Perché non puoi fidarti dei tuoi amici per ottenere aiuto da loro.''

 

''Pensaci, ok?''

 

I caught my breath again, the air flowing back to my lungs. Feliciano was looking at me, seemingly in shock. However, he looked like he understood, and was sitting them contemplating. 

The only thing I was aware of for a while was the loudness of my voice, and the red hot feeling over my face from yelling so loud and being winded from all of the oxygen I had lost. A familiar scent hit my nose though, the latter being the scent of the fresh lilacs in the vase near my mirrors. 

The small memory of how I started to like the flowers came to mind. However, I forced myself to shove that off to the side. So I could continue thinking and gathering myself. However, I was interrupted by a small laugh. 

=-=-= Feliciano's (Point of View) =-=-=

My 2p copy had stopped his small rant at me from where he was in the mirror, his purple eyes seeming to be darker from the concentration he had put into his abrasive Italian barrage of words. However, the more he spoke, I realized he was right. He was right about me hurting myself, and hurting the others in the process. 

I was being selfish, so very selfish, and I didn't want to realize it myself. I wanted to ignore it, because in the end I was only really caring about myself whenever I thought of the others. That is now the part the bothers me the most. 

The tears in my eyes still stung, and now my face felt as if someone had poured honey down them because of how sticky the tears dried on my skin. However, I pulled myself to laugh, un-ironically, and chuckled at my own stupidity. Before pulling myself to speak my own tongue back, and share the moment with my friend. 

''Sì .. Sono abbastanza sciocco. Capisco cosa intendi per Luciano. Vedo quali errori sto   
facendo ...''

'' e- ''

''e farò del mio meglio per correggerlo.''

 

''Lo prometto...''

 

He and I stayed silent for a little while, before we started to laugh a little. I was sitting there, wiping my tears away, feeling the stickiness on my face was becoming a little too much. Soon though, looked back up at him, his smile was reassuring, something I never knew he would do in front of me. 

But I enjoyed his smile, because I am not a burden. I am going to talk to the others.. and let them know what is going on. 

Yeah, that was what I was going to do. I need to open myself up again after closing myself behind my doors of guilt.

\- - - - - 3rd Person (Point of View) - - - - - 

As the two Italians continued to talk, and just chat about what they need to, or desired for the last 20 minutes of their time of the world being abridged, they were unaware of another person stalking the corridors of the fine home. 

The fine polished wood that had only been speckled from dust bunnies barely made a creak as thin shoes made their way over the boards, a heavy man in those shoes. His eyes were dark and concentrated, his brown hair brushed back in a short man-bun. His glasses lay over his eyes, and his face was rather broad. His weight should have been enough for there to be noise. But he knew how to control his weight dispersion, making him almost undetectable. 

He made his way around the corner, an saw the Italian man talking to a mirror. At first, he thought he was talking to himself, but as he peers closer, he sees another man in the mirror that replicated the on he was after. As if the glass were playing Halloween. 

He needed to hurry then, seeing the Italian touch the glass, he realized that there was no way for the replica or whatever IT was to come through. Meaning he was going to be able to do this either way. He couldn't afford to waste time. He needed to get back to his research. 

As soon as he steps forward to make a dash at the Italian, the one in the mirror seemed to get nervous, and start looking around where he was at, 'tense' written all over his brow. 

He ran. 

He knew he needed to get it over with before the black and blue clad man had a chance to get fair warning. 

"Feli, look out!" 

A moment, a half a minute, several seconds. It all seemed to be going the same pace for everyone. As soon as Feliciano saw the man, he knew he was in immediate danger. He got an automatic feeling of outright dread through his entire being. It made his stomach curl, and head spin. His body started to feel heavy, most likely from surprise. 

However, this was no time to faint, or act scared, it felt more like life or death. Meaning it was fight or flight. His living room was close, but his windows were a bit high. To prevent people from crawling in from outside easily. Even though tall people might be able to see in just find. His windows were also quite narrow, to make it harder to get in easier due to a lack of space. So either way, even if he did run, he would still be trapped. He was nimble, not a gymnast. 

He did the first thing he thought of. The first thing Ludwig had taught him to do in case of emergency. That was finding some way to stop his attacker. He quickly bends down, and got as far away from the mans arms as he could, and throws his body weight at his legs. 

Due to it not being expected, the man that was charging at Feliciano tripped, and fell forward, nearly dropping the bottle he was holding. As soon as he caught himself, the quickly turns, and tries another tactic to trap the man in front of him, only to fail. The smaller male seeming to understand everything he was trying to pull. 

The copy of his target was standing there at the mirror still, getting more and more frustrated that he was unable to do anything. He had his butterfly knife in his and, and was scowling at the man. His eyes narrowed, and nearly seeming to glow in great fury. Profanities were pooling from his mouth, like a downpour of hail, hitting everywhere hard, save the actual target they were intended. Worried words coming out for the lighter haired copy more often than not. 

After a good 10 minutes of struggling, the strange man had kicked Feliciano down near the mirror, and he held his weight over the mans back, having him pinned against the floor on his stomach. He was trying his best to get away, his body writing to throw the man off balance, and his arms trying to pull at the heavy foot to do the same. All turning into a barrage of fails.

Until the last attempt, where Felciano started to roll to the side, and used his hand to make the man fall the other way. The movement caused the man to drop his bottle, and he growls lowly as he looked to the desperate Italian who was still struggling fairly clearly. His patience had been used up. He didn't need that bottle anymore. He let the liquid pour out onto the find wooden floor, and he stomps on Feliciano's back hard. 

"Ghhhhkkk!!" the choked noise made it's way from the Italians mouth as he coughed, trying to get some of his lost air back. However, he wasn't given much of a reprieve before the man bent down, and slammed his head into the ground. 

Pain blossomed in his skull immediately. The world seeming to get fuzzier and fuzzier. 

"Feli! Listen to me you bastard, you better let him the fuck go before-" the threat Luciano was about to spit out was interrupted by the man, who chuckled a looked him right in the eye.

"Before you what? Hurt me? Kill me, fat chance there, after all-" he curtly cuts himself off, before punching the far side of the mirror, making it shatter and fall to the ground in shards, pieces of glass clanging to the floor and further shattering themselves due to the pressure. "You can't do anything. You are about as good as a spoon being used for salad. No matter how many times you scoop it, anything you get will fall right back off before it reaches your mouth." the man darkly chuckled before grabbing Feliciano's arm, and looking right into the 2p's eyes. His own glowing more and more menacingly. 

Feliciano stiffened at the contact, scared of what the man was going to do, despite that though, he kept trying to get away, kicking his feet and bending his hips in hopes of catching the man on the back of the head, before he heard a sickening snap. 

The man over him had grabbed his arm, and twisted it around so hard it caused his joint in his elbow to give in, and his arm went limp, hanging there like a wet rag over a clothes line. 

Feliciano let out a horrid, pained scream, tearing up from the immense burn he felt building in his arm before he heard yet another snap, and his left foot started to dangle,before being dropped. Due to being dropped, it landed more awkwardly, and the Italian let out another pained scream, agony filling him. 

Luciano was seething, and his arms were tight, hands clenched. His teeth bared, and knife held so hard, it looked like the handle was going to splinter in his hand. 

"Just hold on Feli, I'll figure out a way to get you out of there!!" 

The man smiled again, before he laughed, and looked at the 2p. He only shook his had, muttering to himself "Pathetic." before bringing up his arm, and harshly hitting Feliciano on the back of the head, causing the man to cease his movements. His sobbing stopped, and he finished falling limp. As if he were just a lifeless doll.

\- - - - - - // -> After-notes!<-// - - - - - -

This is Luciano's Italian Dialogue right here, in English:

''Never speak that way about yourself, do you hear me?! I swear on both our names that if you do not stop saying that shit about yourself, I am going to crawl my way to your world and beat your ass! You are there for a reason, and even if you did take back time, and were not made, I am sure the same thing would have happened someway or the other! ''

 

''Now stop thinking about that depressing shit, and get yourself in line, because everyone is showing that they obviously care about you! You need to quit sulking, and talk to them because leaving them alone is only making you feel more and more guilty! ''

 

''. . . ''

 

''I know that you think you are doing the right thing, by leaving them out of anything even related to the memory of that place. I cannot even say I understand either. However, ou are only digging yourself in a rut, they are going to find out what you are doing to yourself. That's going to make them feel worse than the mansion ever would. Because you can't trust your own friends to get help from them. ''

 

''Just think about it, okay?'' 

 

And this other one below is Feliciano's Italian Dialogue:

''Sì .. Sono abbastanza sciocco. Capisco cosa intendi per Luciano. Vedo quali errori sto   
facendo ...''

''e-''

''e farò del mio meglio per correggerlo.''

 

''Lo prometto...''

 

// I chose to use Italian dialogue, because I felt it would be more meaningful and heartfelt kind of like a friends thing. Cause sometimes when I was younger, my mom would whisper to me in Cree, my Native language, and I found it more comforting than English. :') 

 

to be continued


End file.
